


All Kinds of Time

by Lauren (notalwaysweak)



Category: The Big Bang Theory (TV)
Genre: Community: trope_bingo, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-22
Updated: 2014-03-22
Packaged: 2018-01-16 14:33:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1350934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notalwaysweak/pseuds/Lauren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This isn't the first time that Missy has had to counsel her brother over the phone, but she does wish he wouldn't call quite so late. Still, some things are worth losing a little sleep over.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All Kinds of Time

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Long Distance](https://archiveofourown.org/works/228469) by [Lauren (notalwaysweak)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/notalwaysweak/pseuds/Lauren). 



> I think the driving force behind this is just that I'm pissed we didn't get to see Missy on screen and I could stand to hear more about her in the series... but I also wanted Sheldon to talk to someone about kissing Amy with regards to feelings. Written for Trope Bingo square 'reunion'.
> 
> Title is from 'Transcontinental, 1.30AM' by Vienna Teng.
> 
> I am making no money off this work of fan fiction.
> 
> * * *

Missy’s awake anyway, her infant son latched onto her nipple and guzzling away, and answering the phone is an automatic enough gesture that she can do it without thinking. Of course, once she actually registers the fact that she’s on the phone, then she blinks at the clock. Yes, it is in fact not even remotely close to the asscrack of dawn yet, so why is her phone ringing? 

“We need to talk.” Her brother sounds agitated.

“Shelly…” Missy doesn’t have a free hand so yawns directly into the phone. “What the hell time do you call this?”

“You’re awake, aren’t you? I assumed that with a newborn you’d be up all night anyway.”

“That ain’t a reason to call me at one-thirty in the morning.”

“It’s only eleven-thirty… oh. I didn’t think.”

“You? Didn’t think of the time difference? Who are you and where’s my real brother?” She’s keeping her voice low so as not to disturb either her husband or her baby, although the latter generally can’t be distracted from feeding by anything short of an earthquake. Which, to be fair, is getting to be more of a problem lately, but not so much as it would be if she lived in California like Sheldon.

Missy realizes that Sheldon’s still talking, and tunes back in.

“…we need to talk.”

“Don’t you mean _you_ need to talk and _I_ need to _listen_?”

“Mostly,” Sheldon concedes.

“Is this about Amy again?”

“How did you know?”

Missy cradles the phone between her ear and shoulder, switches her baby from one breast to the other, and says, “You called me when she kissed you. You called me when you made things official – and by the way, yes, doin’ it while she was on a date _was_ rude. And you called me when you heard from Howard and Rajesh that there was a guy from the university hittin’ on her, ‘cause you wanted to know if you should say something to him.”

“Oh. I suppose there _is_ a pattern.”

“So what is it this time?”

Sheldon launches into an enthusiastic discourse on trains. Parts of it sound vaguely familiar, but that might just be because he’s been talking about trains since they were maybe three and a half and, try as she might, she’s never been able to block all of it out.

“…and after we got to the bed and breakfast and the banjo player finished his second encore, I was trying to get to sleep, but I couldn’t stop thinking about how it felt.”

“How what felt, Shelly?” Missy lifts her son to her shoulder, checks that the towel is covering the back of the couch as well, and blows a tickly strand of hair out of her face. She _thinks_ she didn’t miss him saying anything about something feeling some way, but maybe he fell over when the train turned a corner and got banged up, or something.

“I.”

“Go on.”

“I kissed Amy. And… I liked it.”

“Did she taste like cherry chapstick?” Missy’s wayward tongue inquires without much in the way of input from her brain.

“No, like brownie. We had cheesecake brownie tart for dessert with a graham cracker crust, but the strongest taste was the brownie taste. The chocolate…” Sheldon sighs. “It made me remember eating dessert, but now thinking about it just makes me remember kissing Amy.”

“Is that such a bad thing?”

“What if we break up and every time after that, if I have cheesecake brownie tart with a graham cracker crust, all I can think of is kissing her?”

“That’s how love works, hon. It’s all about takin’ chances. You’ll always have that memory. It’ll always be good, even if it hurts a little.” Missy grimaces as a splatter of recycled milk manages to completely miss the towel and trickle down her neck. “That’s more than some people get. And what if you _don’t_ break up? Then you’ve got – hold on.” She mops her neck and picks the phone back up, feeling a little less sticky. “Then you’ve got some real clear memories for your weddin’ speech.”

“ _Wedding speech_?” Sheldon sounds scandalized.

Missy sighs and smiles. It’s been three or four years since Sheldon first called her to ask her how Amy kissing him changed their relationship. She’s pretty sure there are glaciers out there that move faster. And yet, in their own unique way, they’ve got something so strong. Not bad for something that started out as an online dating thing that Shelly didn’t even set up himself.

Who knows, maybe he never would have found her if he _had_ done it himself.

“Melissa Rose, you tell me _right_ _now_ what you meant about wedding speeches!”

Squinting at the clock, Missy pulls the afghan around herself and her baby, and prepares to mess with her brother’s mind but good. If he considers this an appropriate time to have an impromptu and pretty self-centered reunion with his twin, then he deserves a little payback.


End file.
